Of Broomsticks and Quaffles
by Celestia0909
Summary: A short story about Ginny Weasley and her love for Quidditch


**Of Broomsticks and Quaffles**

 _HUGE THANKS TO EMILEA FOR THE BETA AS ALWAYS! XX_

[A/N at the end]

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When Ginny Weasley was five years old, she snuck into Bill's bedroom and stole one of his Quidditch jerseys. She had always loved Quidditch and didn't quite understand why _she_ wasn't allowed to go and watch the local games with her brothers and their dad. Her mum said that she was too young, but Ron was only one year older than she was, and _he_ was allowed to go to the games.

Instead, she'd be left with her mum, knitting jumpers, baking cookies, and cooking dinner for when they would all come home. She was always so jealous about how happy they all were after a match, talking excitedly about all of the best moments. They tried to recap some of them for her, but they could never get through one play before spiralling off into talking about another.

The jersey that she had stolen from Bill was ten sizes too big for her and was more like a dress than a jersey on her. But she loved it and wore it everywhere for two weeks straight. That is, until her brother found out and stole it back from her.

Two years later, when she was seven, their dad found a new fishing spot within walking distance. She had been eager to go, but her mum had insisted that it was too dangerous for her because she might slip in. While her brothers went to explore the creek and learn to fish, she had been left at home with her mum. That was the first time she'd ever broken into the broom shed and taken Percy's broom out for a ride around the garden. She didn't feel the least bit guilty about it, because really, Percy _never_ used his broom and he had always preferred watching to playing anyway.

It had been the best twenty minutes of her life. When her mum had found her flying around by herself, she'd been promptly relegated to bathroom duty for a week. Nonetheless, she vowed to do it again the very next day.

When her brothers came home and her mum told them about what had happened, they barely concealed their amusement as their mother continued her tirade about her behaviour. All the while, Fred and George patted her back and congratulated her for her valiant efforts.

Years went by with her breaking into the shed and stealing her brothers' brooms. When she turned ten, she was finally allowed to play with them, and was even gifted her very first broomstick. It was a slow thing, but it was hers, and she spent hours and hours polishing and clipping it while her brothers went off to Hogwarts and left her alone.

When Ron wrote back about a boy named Harry, who was the youngest Seeker in a century, Ginny vowed to herself that she'd be on the same team as him one day. She spent every afternoon for a year practicing how to throw Quaffles around the garden, aiming them at the cumbersome garden gnomes that roamed around the grass.

Another few years went by before she was finally able to play for Gryffindor, and she had done it in spectacular fashion too, catching the Snitch and winning the game for her house. It had been the first time in her life that she'd ever _really_ been able to call herself a Quidditch player, and her obsession became her lifelong goal. While the afterparty raged on in the common room, she told herself that she would be a professional Quidditch player; come hell or high water, she _would_ play for a real team.

Winning was addictive, but being in the air and playing with a team was like nothing that she had ever experienced before. There was something exhilarating and joyous about it. It was like nothing could ever get to her, ever bother her; all she had to focus on was the game and scoring points for her team. Nothing could harm her while she was in the air; not the looming war, not Umbridge and her squad of toads, and not even her boy troubles. Nothing could get to her, only the odd Bludger or two.

But like a great many other things, war couldn't be stopped by throwing around Quaffles and Bludgers. It always came, hurtling through and destroying everything in its path, even her dreams.

For a long while, her only dream had been to stay alive long enough to see her family's faces again. Through all the beatings, curses, and torture inflicted on her at Hogwarts, it was Quidditch, and the promise of a better future, that kept her sane enough to go on. It was the little things, like throwing Quaffles and Snitches around, that made her feel like the world wasn't completely ending.

When the war did eventually end, the first thing her family did was collect their broomsticks and play an afternoon full of backyard Quidditch with their friends and family that had survived. It was bittersweet, and they were all vividly aware of Fred's absence, but it was better than tears and awkward silence. She could almost imagine him cheering her on with every goal she got passed Ron.

And now, it had been two years since she came out alive. The roars of the crowd thundered through the small tunnel that she and her team waited by as their captain, Gwenog, gave them a rousing pre-game speech.

"So go out there, kick their arses, and give us a win!" she finished as she pumped her fist in the air with a determined look on her scarred and tanned face.

The nerves that had been virtually non-existent were raging inside her stomach as the butterflies turned into giant albatrosses fluttering about in her gut. She had been feeling nothing but excitement at fulfilling her lifelong dream of playing her first professional Quidditch match, but as the crowd's cheers grew louder, the reality of the situation suddenly dawned on her.

She had been the number one rookie player to watch for this season, and it'd be a real embarrassment if she didn't score a single goal.

As they exited the tunnel, the cheers became deafening and the ground beneath her feet shook. With her broom gripped firmly in her hand, she followed the rest of the team as they walked towards the middle of the pitch, where the other team, the Magpies, were waiting with the official referees.

Ginny blocked out whatever the head referee said, simply watching the other team and figuring out their strengths and weaknesses. She had always relied on her athleticism to win matches, but the Magpies were too good to rely on _only_ that.

As the referee flipped a coin, her eyes darted to the Harpies' viewing box, where all their friends and family were waiting to watch the game. Warmth spread across her body as an army of people with varying shades of red hair waved their banners and flags wildly, all sporting her number, name, and sometimes her face.

At the very front of the group of Weasleys was Harry, his striking black hair contrasting with the rest of her family. He was holding a chubby little baby with his shade of hair in his arm and a flag in the other. And just as a light switching on in the darkness, her nerves left her at the realisation that it didn't matter if she played well or not.

Sure, playing Quidditch professionally had always been her dream, but as she smiled at her fiancé and their new baby, she knew that perhaps there were more important things than winning a Quidditch match.

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 **Author's Note**

Word Count: 1,275

 **Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition**

Game/Round: 6

Team/Position: Seeker

Task/Prompt: Ginny Weasley

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I hope you all enjoyed this story x

Please don't forget to leave a short (or long) review.

I love love love reading them!

Until next time, Andy x


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